Spiders
by glitterglow
Summary: Riddle is a boy, a ten year old boy. Can you see how he turned into the darkest wizard ever? This is basically Riddle's thoughts and a collection of incidents that happened before Hogwarts. Hope you like it!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**A/N:** Hello everyone, this is basically Riddle's life before Hogwarts, when he was a boy. Some of the grammar isn't perfect but it's not supposed to be – he's only a kid, lay off him! Hope you like it.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters here apart from Lucy and her mother.

I got a big spider today. After lunch. I was up in my room and I saw it sitting on my wardrobe, near the top. It was a really good one, really big with really really long legs. I wanted it for my spider jar, see if it would eat the others. I already had nine. I went to get my jar and the door opened.

"Riddle, Cole says you 'ave to come downstairs now, no point in stayin' in yeh room like you are, still got to come down and do chores." He saw my jar. "What's that you got there?"

"Jar"

"Lemme see it. Ugh, it's full of spidys. Riddle, these yeh friends or somethin'? Got no others?" He looked at me, standing by the wardrobe and saw the spider near the top. He reached out and grabbed it, and smirked.

"This your friend too? You want it? What yeh gonna give me to stop it gettin' its legs pulled off?"

I just stood still.

"Fine. Your spidy ain't gonna 'ave no legs." He pulled off all its legs and chucked its torso at my head. Then he left. "See you at dinner, spidy kid."

I hate him. I wanted that spider. Now it's useless. How's it going to eat the others with no legs to trap them?

It happened again today. At dinner. When Mrs. Cole gave us our water; Billy Stubbs poured his all over my legs.

"Mrs. Cole Mrs. Cole! Tom's wet himself again! Can I move, I don't want to sit near no piss-kid."

Amy and Dennis giggled, the others smirked. Mrs. Cole just tutted.

I hate them, I hate them all. I hate them so much it makes me hot inside. I took a big gulp of water, and as soon as it went in my mouth it started to boil, and it burnt my mouth. It happens sometimes. I had to spit it out but it was too hot so it sort of dribbled onto my plate, and Billy saw. Mrs. Cole was standing next to him, but he still whispered, "Retarded ain't yeh, Riddle?"

I'm not retarded, I'm special. It's different. I made Billy's face in my mash and I killed him loads and loads with my knife. I stabbed his stupid eyes out, made them so they ran into his nose and melted. He looked better.

He got me worse later. He caught me on the stairs and pulled my hair back so my eyes went wide. Dennis was with him, and he had my spider jar. He'd been in my room again. They smirked and Dennis took the lid off and put the jar on the floor. When my spiders came out, he stamped on them. Billy still had my hair so I had to watch. When they'd all died, Billy picked it up.

"Here y'are Riddle. Have yeh spidy jar back." Then he punched me in my stomach and went off with Dennis. He missed though, he got my ribs. Must have hurt his hand.

I hate him, hate him more than the others; he's the worst. But I'll get him, I will. I know I'm ten and he's twelve. But I'm better than him and the others; I know it. I am. And I can talk to snakes. I really can.

I found a snake in the weeds that grow at the end of the garden. I teased it for a bit with the grass, then I got a stick and stabbed it in the end of its tail so that it couldn't move, then I told it to bite itself free. I did. It didn't want to, but I can do things to animals; I felt its mind and I crushed it. It did everything I wanted.

I went and got my spider jar to put it in; I wanted to take it back to my room, maybe experiment on it, see how long it could survive in there. It fitted alright; the tail was obviously a bit shorter so it had more space than I wanted, but not that much. It was still bleeding.

On my way back inside I had to go down the path to the side gate, and Mrs. Cole had swept a big pile of leaves. Big ones, whole crunchy brown chestnut ones. She wasn't there. I jumped in the middle and crushed them, they were dust, just crumbs under my feet, like Amy and Dennis and Billy and Mrs. Cole and Mr. Robinson at school and Harper and-

"Oi, Riddle, get in. Cole says you 'ave to do dryin' now…what's that?"

I tried not to smile. "Snake."

"Give"

Billy grabbed it from me; I only pretended to stop him. He undid the lid, and took out the snake. He saw the end and squeezed some blood out. He looked at me funny.

"What's happened to its tail?"

"It bit it off. Because I told it to."

He scoffed. "You're crazy Riddle. Worse than me 'n' Den thought. Talkin' in your sleep is one thing, but talkin' to snakes is dif'rent. No wonder no-one likes you, goin' round lyin' bout stuff all the time-"

"Lying am I? You want to see? Want me to show you?"

My voice had gone sort of high pitched and cold. It surprised me. It scared Billy.

I spoke to the snake, sort of hissing but not at the same time, "_Bite him, bite him on the wrist_."

"You think some hissin' or somethin' made up's gonna scare me Riddle?"

But his hands were trembling.

The snake turned round and bit him hard on the wrist. He howled and dropped it, and it slithered away through the grass. I didn't care; I didn't want it anymore.

Billy's wrist was bleeding badly; he'd gone white. I stepped up to him, close to his face.

"Don't ever tell me I'm a liar again."

He just stared at me. It felt good.

They left me alone for a couple of weeks. Billy and the others. I'd changed; they'd changed. No-one said it, but I had control and they knew it. They thought it was just snakes. It wasn't.

I don't like talking much. I only talk when I have to, when I want something. I don't talk to the people at school, there's nothing special about them. That's why I was so surprised when Lucy asked me to tea. In the playground, in front of everyone. She twisted her fingers and bit her lip a lot, and she had really red cheeks. I'd never noticed it before.

Mrs. Cole said I had to go. She says I need more friends but she doesn't mean it, she just wants to get rid of me. Get me out, away from the others. They've said stuff. She'll get the doctor round again, I don't want that. I hate him.

I went to Lucy's house after school at 4.30 on Friday. Mrs. Cole brushed my hair and made me wear my lined shirt. She gave me flowers to give her mother.

I knew the way, her house was just up the road. It only took me ten minutes, and I walked slowly. She had a big brass knocker in the shape of a gargoyle's head. I liked it. I knocked it three times. Her mother answered the door, and I gave her the flowers.

"Why thank you Tom, that's very kind of you." She sniffed them. "They smell wonderful, and they're cream too; oh they'll go in the living room nicely."

She smiled at me. I liked it.

"Lucy's already up in her room, I told her I'd show you up when you came but I'm afraid I'm a bit busy in the kitchen at the moment, it's shepherd's pie tonight. Do you like that?"

I hated it, but I nodded.

Good good, that's lovely. Well her room's the first on the right, I'll call you when tea's ready."

I found her room; it was pink. And frilly. And full of sort toys, Teddies lined the walls. I'd never been in a girl's bedroom before, apart from Mrs. Cole's but hers is grey, same as mine. Not like this. All girly.

Lucy came over. I put out my hand, "How do you do?"

She blushed again, "Very well, thank you." She sort of stood there for a while and chewed her lip. Then she turned away and got out a dolls house. It was pink too. And it had frilly curtains. We divided up the dolls, I was the matron and the father, she was the mother, the son, the daughter, the cook and the maid. We played for a while. I got bored early on, but she seemed to enjoy herself. Then she started talking to me.

"Everyone at school told me I was crazy for asking you round, they said you were strange. But I like you. I know they don't but I do. I'll be your friend…if you like."

She mumbled the last bit into her hair, but I understood perfectly. I don't need friends, I have myself. That's why she asked me round, to make fun of me, like all the others.

"No. I don't want to be your friend. You're like all the others."

She looked shocked, "But Tom, they don't like you. I do. I just thought if I asked you round then you'd see that I feel sorry for you and-"

"Sorry for me? Why?"

My voice had gone all cold again. Lucy looked terrified. "Why feel sorry for me? I don't need you. Any of you. You should be feeling sorry for your dollies."

I picked one up, the daughter. I held her in my hand and made her burn. Lucy stared at me with her mouth open, stuttering. "Don't please, please that's Amber, she's my favourite, you're making her hurt! Please! How are you doing that? Just stop it, please! I'll call my mummy!"

I threw Amber down. Her dress was burned right off and so was her hair. I left Lucy sobbing over her doll. Serves her right. Feeling pity, for me.

I opened the door really quietly; I don't think her mum heard me. It wasn't far back, only about seven minutes this time. I walked faster.

Her mother phoned the home about ten minutes after I got back. Mrs. Cole put me on washing up duty for three weeks, and she smacked me on my head. I was a bit dizzy. But it was worth it; I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me. Especially not a girl.

Before bed, I got my box out of my wardrobe. It already had a yo-yo from the boy down the road, a mouth organ I stole from Eric Whalley and a silver thimble I found in Mrs. Cole's room. I love my box. I added a doll to it; the mother. She had a dark blue dress with a white collar and cuffs. I liked her best.

**A/N: **Well again hope you liked it/don't want to kill me because you hated it so much. It's the holidays now (yay) so I should be updating soon. Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Once again, hope you like it. Thank you to my lovely reviewers, all two of you. You made the sun shine in my head. Ta ta now.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters apart from my own. There. Happy?

**Chapter 2**

It was all round school on Monday, what I did at Lucy's. People kept staring at me, but no-one did anything because they all knew I burned her doll; no-one knows how. Only me. Lucy kept looking, but not like she used to. I don't mind. I don't need her. Don't need anyone.

The others in the home still aren't talking to me either. They follow Billy. I like it – not talking. Mostly because I made it stop. The words. I made them stop. Just by talking to a snake and burning a doll. I want to know what I could do if I did more. Would the words ever come back? Or would they stay silent forever – the way I want.

----

I did it to Mr. Robinson at school today. Made the words stop. He was annoying me, making me angry. So I punished him. He sort of went green, and left the classroom. He didn't come back. We all went to lunch ten minutes early. I stayed on the playground, so everyone went on the field.

I don't know where he went; he couldn't do much out there. It was in the classroom. It was his own fault anyway. We were doing spellings. I hate spellings. He was going round the room and asking people the spellings we learned for homework. I knew all of them except 'diaphragm'. The 'f' was a 'ph' and the 'am' was 'agm'. It was a stupid word anyway. I knew all the others though; they were easy.

Mr. Robinson was going round the class, asking us all words. Jimmy got 'difficulty' and Peter got 'amazing'. When it was my turn, he looked at me and I knew he was going to give me diaphragm. Because he doesn't like me.

"Riddle, your word is 'diaphragm'. Spell it."

I tried. "D-I-A-P-H-"

"-Mm, yes."

"-R-A-M"

"No Mr. Riddle, the word is not 'diaphrRAM' it is 'diaphRAGM'. I can see you haven't learnt the list, therefore you have not done your homework. You shall write two hundred lines on the diaphragm and its uses."

I felt annoyed, "Sir, I did learn the words, just not diaphragm; it was hard."

"So just because it was hard, you don't have to learn it? Is that what you think? Are you different to everyone else boy, are you special? Do you not need to learn this list of words? I'll tell you what I think. I think you're insolent Riddle. And lazy. A lazy, insolent little boy, who should learn when to keep his mouth shut."

People giggled. I got angry then. Inside I was getting all hot but my voice was cold. "Should I? Really? I think it's you who needs to learn to hold your tongue."

People stopped giggling. Mr. Robinson went red, and stuttered. "Never….such insolence….in all my years-"

He never finished though, because he looked down at his hand; the chalk rubber had changed. He was holding a tongue. A big, red, dripping piece of meat. I told him to hold his tongue. So he did.

----

I was only suspended. Not expelled. No-one could prove anything about the tongue, but somehow they all knew it was me. Maybe it was because I didn't scream. I was suspended for three weeks anyway, for rudeness. When I got home Mrs. Cole hit me again. I didn't care. I didn't have to go to school for three weeks. I hate that school; I don't learn anything. Anything useful, anyway. I don't need anyone teaching me anything; I have my powers and they're mine. I already know how to use them. They're mine.

I think I get them from my father. I must do. He must be some sort of rich, powerful person if he has powers like that. Living in a mansion somewhere. Or in jail. People can't handle power. That's why he couldn't stay, or save my mother. People were after him. They were, I know.

Sometimes I have this dream, where my mother's on the steps outside the orphanage, and my father's there, helping her up. There's this person chasing them, a man – sort of. He's skinny but he's powerful; he reminds me of a snake. I can't really see his face but I know he's trying to hurt them. My father shouts, 'Go, get up the steps, and get inside! I'll hold him off; don't let him get to you or the baby' (even though I wasn't born, I'm still the baby). Then I'm focused on my mother, I can't turn around but I always try. My eyes go all funny because I push them round so far that I can't see anything, just black. When I look back, my mother's unconscious. The man or his servants (powerful people always have servants) must have captured my father. My mother didn't have any powers. I know she didn't, because she died. My father couldn't help her. I'm always sweaty when I wake up and sometimes I have to change the sheets. But I don't cry. I never cry.

I want to find my father someday. He must be looking for me. Even with his powers, if he's in another country or in jail then he can't find me; I've got to find him. But I need to get stronger first; I want to be amazing when I meet my father.

----

I hate Billy. Really hate him. I want him to die. Slowly, on fire. Or maybe drowning. Or stabbing; I could stab him with the bread knife in the kitchen. I'm still on washing up duty, I could get it. But I'd be in trouble if I killed him now; I'll wait. But I have to get him back. Now I mean. He can't get away with saying things like that to me.

I know how to get him. Billy. I saw him about an hour ago in the menagerie, with his rabbit, Lisa. His mother gave it to him; it's all he has. I'm going to kill it. With one of the dog's leashes, I'm going to hang his rabbit.

----

I did it after dinner, when they'd all gone outside to play and I was doing the washing up. It was the easiest thing I've ever done. I took out his rabbit and tied the dog's leash around its neck. I thought it wasn't going to work then because I needed it to hang from the rafters to get the proper effect, to make Billy sorry. But I really wanted it, and I just sort of found myself on one of the beams, in the rafters. I don't remember getting there. But I did. I tied the rabbit up and let it hang; it was wiggling for ages. It went still in the end but it looked sort of peaceful, like it was sleeping. I broke its neck, twisted its head round. It ripped a bit and some blood came out and a bit of bone; it looked better.

----

The words stopped again. After they found the rabbit. Billy cried for days. Serves him right though, shouldn't have said that to me. He knows who it was too - they all do. But they don't at the same time. That's the best bit; no-one can prove it was me, no-one knows. But they feel it; they can feel it was me. And they don't know how I did it. No-one's even looking at me anymore. I love it.

Dennis and Amy are though, they love Billy. And his rabbit. It was half theirs – they don't have any pets, so Billy let them have half between them. And I killed it. I think they hate me; I don't care. I really don't.

----

My room was burned. Amy and Dennis did it. I know. I can feel it – it wasn't Billy. He's afraid of me now, he wouldn't dare.

It wasn't all burned. Only a corner, near my window. Mrs. Cole got in before it could get any bigger, and she poured water on it. She didn't even try to find out who did it; she didn't care. It was my room. I liked to sit on the window ledge. All black now.

They're just the same as Billy; they think they can get away with it. They can't. Not with me.

**A/N:** Sorry it wasn't very long, I just couldn't think of enough fillers! Also sorry if any of the words come out likethis, it happens sometimes when I upload; it's weird.Hope it borders on alright for you, and please tell me what you think. Please?


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